


Wilting

by moritzofsuburbia



Category: VIXX
Genre: Angst, Blood, General suffering, Hospital, Just angst, M/M, Unrequited Love, Vomiting, does it even count as vomiting?, hanahaki byou, non-consensual gardening, probably not im putting it just to be safe, surprisingly low percentage of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:51:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6646276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moritzofsuburbia/pseuds/moritzofsuburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The second he felt the threat of a cough rising in the back of his throat, he tried to casually excuse himself from the room. He was quick enough that hardly anyone noticed, just a couple looks of acknowledgement and that was it. Good. The lack of attention made this all the more easy on him, at least.

Not that anything could be called easy, right now. Not that anything about this awful twisted disease was easy.

When he reached the bathroom, Taekwoon silently shut the door and leaned over the sink, trembling more out of fear than actual sickness. He didn’t even feel much, to tell the truth. It didn’t hurt yet.

For most of the time, ever since the first incident took place two days ago, he’d been able to function almost like normal. Well, physically, at least-- if you ignored the strong sense of paranoia that plagued him, far worse than the usual anxiety. All that happened was, every few hours or so, he’d start to feel a little bit nauseous. He’d get a bit lightheaded-- _just_ a bit. The urge to cough would tickle the back of his throat, then irritate until it became a burn, until he couldn’t hold it in.

That was what was happening now.

He grew a bit more lightheaded with each shallow breath, the breaths that were quickly becoming coughs. His hands gripped the edge of the countertop tight enough to make the knuckles turn white, and in a hurry to muffle the sound he quickly lifted a hand and pressed it to his mouth. Taekwoon was starting to feel ill, ill to the point of vomiting, but it wasn’t bile that was rising in his throat.

His shoulders shook as he dry-heaved, doing all that he could to stifle the noise, until into the hand clamped over his mouth fell something soft. The nasty coughs were finally subsiding, having served their purpose. And when he pulled his hand away, lips still parted, he was holding three little white petals.

_Fuck. No, no, not again._

The disease could _maybe_ have been bearable for some time if this were all that it entailed, if he didn’t know fully well how far Hanahaki could progress. There had even been countless scandals of it happening to other idols, of course, stories that the media just _soaked_ up. They loved this kind of thing. You heard the stories pop up constantly. Poor idol falls in love with one of their other members, or a fan, or a stylist, but no matter who it is it’s impossible to keep quiet for too long. They’re eventually found vomiting up handfuls of petals, or they admit to it in a tearful confession. Could be the first time it happens that they come running to their managers holding a few petals in their trembling hands as though the things might explode, holding them out and away from their body and begging to go in for surgery as soon as possible.

Or the secret might finally get out, months into the disease, when entire flowers are blossoming in the unfortunate person’s mouth and they have to pull them the rest of the way out by the stem, before another flower soon follows, and another, and another. Too quickly to get rid of one before one more clogs their throat.

Every possibility Taekwoon considered left him shaking.

Hurriedly, he turned and dropped the petals into the toilet, trying not even to look at them as he flushed them away. Like maybe if he wished hard enough, he’d realize this was all a dream, or even some kind of twisted hallucination.

The ugly weight of fear and anxiety settled in his chest, making him very afraid indeed of what was to come next, but still, he couldn't forget the person who’d gotten him into this position in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

Even though it had been a few years since their debut, Taekwoon still remembered every emotion that had been running through his head during that very important time of his life. He especially remembered meeting the boys who would become the other members, his mind running rampant with anxiety and preventing him from letting out more than a few words at a time on each individual occasion.

That anxiety had apparently translated into hostility, like it often did with people who didn’t know him well enough to know that his silence implied no bad intentions. Much later, long past the time they’d all become comfortable and friendly with each other and it was okay to say so, the other boys admitted that they had been intimidated upon first meeting the silent Leo. All of them had been able to laugh about it, of course. Scary quiet Leo who could destroy you with one look if you provoked the death glare, was actually just a shy little singer who preferred the company of cute animals to people. Yes, everyone had laughed about how intimidated they’d initially been, except for the one boy who could admit that he'd felt entirely at ease with Taekwoon from the start.

God, Taekwoon had never foreseen himself falling for Hakyeon. But that was the most cliche part of love, wasn't it? It came out of nowhere, knocking you head over heels. It was stupid and cliche and it had consumed him once he finally realized it was happening. Maybe that was why he wasn't surprised when he started coughing up white petals. Love among idols almost never went well, let alone a kind of love that could cost them their careers, reputations, everything. Or at least, that was what it would cost Taekwoon. The oblivious Hakyeon had absolutely nothing to worry about because, as the disease made clear, he did not return any feelings beyond what was platonic.

But sometimes Taekwoon couldn’t help thinking back to that time that his now best friend had admitted the ease he felt upon their meeting. He hadn’t been at all put off by Taekwoon’s silence, no, he had understood it, _accepted_ it, and that was something that so few people ever did without getting to know him first. Sometimes he thought about all of Hakyeon’s casual touches. The way he would sling his arms around Taekwoon and be pushed away by reflex, yet still take no offense. Usually he’d take the hint and give Taekwoon his needed space, but always he remained the ever-affectionate, almost motherly Hakyeon that had a constant need to make sure their little family remembered that they were all cared for. And as much as Taekwoon needed that personal space, he needed Hakyeon just as much.

So, he had three dilemmas, didn’t he? The first was that he never wanted to forget something as beautiful as the love he felt for Cha Hakyeon, even when it made flowers sprout up in his chest, pure white, lovely and deadly. The second was that his only options were either to come clean about the hanahaki and go in for the surgery, ultimately losing his feelings for Hakyeon, or to hold his feelings in until they suffocated him.

The third dilemma was that he wanted nothing to do with either of the options. The dilemma was that, along with the flowers, bloomed a sense of hope.

Cha Hakyeon loved to be close to him, hug him casually and tightly, and make sure he’d slept and eaten, and comfort him when his anxiety became too much to handle… He could think of so many sweet and endearing things that Hakyeon did that he couldn’t even keep track of them all in his head. What if, by a spark of luck, the one he loved was just slowly growing to love him in return? Flowers could wilt, new flowers could grow in their place, ones that didn’t hurt. Ones that bloomed with possibility and thrived on love and care, and maybe, just _maybe…_

_He does all of these little things to show that he cares, and all I can ever make myself do in return is push him away._

Maybe Taekwoon could keep quiet. He could give the flowers time to wilt. Do what he could to finally open up and let Hakyeon in, even if it required putting down all his defenses. Next time, he wouldn’t shove him away when Hakyeon opened his arms to him. Next time, he’d allow himself to smile. Next time, he’d spend hours talking to Hakyeon like he always would have if his fears hadn’t stood in the way, and their light would wilt the flowers that thrived off the darkness. Next time.


	3. Chapter 3

It took him two months into the disease to finally accept what was happening to his body.

It took him a breakdown, leaning over the toilet for nearly an hour, dry heaving petals and then entire flowers and stems into the bowl, before finally accepting that he was failing.

It took the tears that rose in his eyes from the pain and force of the vomiting to make him accept that Hakyeon was not going to feel the same way about him, not before he suffocated on this tragically beautiful thing growing inside of him.

It took the sounds of Wonshik’s banging on the bathroom door and worried shouts from various voices to make him accept that he was trapped, and wasn’t going to make it out alone.

Finally, Taekwoon was left with no choice but to open the door. Staggering away from the toilet on his knees, he swallowed back the flowers that refused to be crushed in the dark pit of his chest and instead blossomed insistently. Like they wanted to show him how much light was inside of him, how bright and beautiful his love was, _look how it grows, isn’t it beautiful?_

Caught between destroying himself and letting others destroy him, he shakily turned the lock and cracked open the door.

Wonshik’s was the first face he saw. “Taekwoon, oh my god…”

“Holy shit, are you alright? I told you guys, I had a feeling this was what was wrong…” That voice must have belonged to Sanghyuk. Taekwoon glanced behind Wonshik to confirm it, surely enough seeing Hyuk’s eyes wide as could be.

The boys pushed the bathroom door wide open, how many of them were there, three? Four? Everyone was moving in too quickly to tell. “Where’s--” _Where’s Hakyeon_ , he wanted to ask, but his words were cut off by another powerful cough, followed by a harsh retching sound, and anyway Hakyeon was nowhere to be seen as far as he could tell. _Where is he?_ He wanted to try again to ask, but Taekwoon had so little breath as it was, it would have done no good to waste it. He had so little to waste.

Taekwoon's vision began to blur, coated with a film of tears, to the point where he couldn't make out anything in his line of vision. The only things he could see were vibrant colors, the red flowers forcing themselves out of his mouth when he leaned over-- funny, were they blooming in different colors now? Was he going to grow a whole garden in the pit of his chest? Red, for Hakyeon’s favorite color. Some white flowers here, some red ones there, maybe purple would be next, or orange, or blue...

From somewhere, he heard Hongbin’s voice, sounding so distant-- "Oh my god, is that blood?"

"They’re cutting into his--"

"We have to get him to--"

“Here, you take his left arm and I’ll--”

The words all blurred together, drained away with his alarming lack of oxygen. Hands were grabbing at him suddenly, from all sides, pulling him, but they might as well have been the gentle caresses of feathers. That was all he could feel. The pain was fading now, and how nice it would have been to lay down on those feathers, lay down against feathers and blood-red petals and drift away...


	4. Chapter 4

White campanulas.

That’s what the doctors said the flowers were. Campanulas, more commonly known as bellflowers. They got lodged in his esophagus, their bell shape momentarily blocking the air and stopping his breathing before he was able to force them out. The rough stems scraped up the sensitive lining of his throat, rubbing it raw. Even if the surgery went smoothly, it would take weeks to recover to the point of being healthy enough to sing again, let alone perform entire concerts in front of thousands of people. And what an endeavor this was going to be, taking those weeks off without any explanation for the fans who would surely be begging for one if their upcoming showcase was cancelled.

He could already hear the possible rumors echoing through his head. The media was going to eat this one up.

What finally woke Taekwoon after he’d passed out was his own coughing. Although, much to his relief, his throat felt clear this time. Dry and inflamed, but clear. The last particularly strong bout of vomiting that had taken place earlier that morning seemed to have ceased for the time being, but that meant it could start up again at any minute.

And then he remembered what had happened during that particularly strong bout of vomiting.

White campanulas. White, _not_ red, like the rich hue he had seen while on the brink of fainting. He would come to realize later-- first when the doctors explained, and second when it would happen again-- that the red was the result of blood splattering on the petals. The rough stems rubbing against his insides constantly enough to make him bleed. Now, hours after the event, it left a nasty taste of old copper in his mouth and a dry feeling in his throat, and he had to request glasses of water at least five times just in the first hour after waking. He was sure his constant requests to the nurses must have been getting irritating, but he had to get rid of that dry, cracked coating of blood in his throat somehow. Still, he couldn’t help wondering if the water only served to make the disease growing inside of him flourish.

What did it matter? He was fucked either way.

What else had happened shortly after Taekwoon woke up was that Hakyeon arrived, a bag slung over one shoulder. He was talking the second he opened the door to the room, the words he’d been waiting to say bursting to get out. “Taekwoon, oh my god, the others called and told me what happened, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, I’m so sorry…”

He tossed the bag onto the floor, every chair already occupied by a very concerned band member. Taekwoon’s heart began beating in double time when Hakyeon leaned over the hospital bed and threw his arms around him. “God, I’m so so glad you’re okay… What have the doctors said, how bad is it? You’re going to have surgery, aren’t you? Please tell me no information has gotten out about this, you don’t need that right now, don’t worry, you’ll make it out of this and you’ll be okay…” As per usual, Hakyeon was trying to speak all of his thoughts as soon as they popped into his head. In the midst of such a scare, those thoughts kicked into overdrive. And while normally the habit would be exceedingly overwhelming to Taekwoon, for the moment he could use that worried and caring voice as his anchor.

While Hakyeon clung to Taekwoon physically, Taekwoon kept a tight mental hold onto the one he loved, letting his voice be something calming and familiar. “Careful, you probably don’t want to get too close to me…” his words trailed off, ending with an apologetic half-smile.

“What, so you don’t get me sick?” Hakyeon cracked a slight grin despite the deep concern in his eyes, something Taekwoon was grateful for. Even in the most somber of times, in the midst of such a dark premise, that smile offered an unquenchable light.

So much of Hakyeon’s light at once must have been too much for Taekwoon, because he had to turn his head down, hiding the fact that his eyes were starting to burn with the threat of tears. “Oh, Taekwoon…” Voice heavy with worry, Hakyeon pulled him close once more, hugging him still in the awkward position so the boy in the hospital bed would not have to move unnecessarily much.

The others began clearing out one by one by the time Taekwoon was starting to fall asleep again, full of medication for the pain. First it was Jaehwan who needed to talk things over with their managers, then Sanghyuk and Hongbin who were called in after too many disagreements over whether or not they should call off their upcoming showcase. Wonshik was one of the most reluctant to leave his friend, but eventually it was necessary, though first he gave Hakyeon a tight reassuring hug. “He’ll be fine, he’s got all of us here for him, yeah? He’s got people who care about him, even if _that_ person doesn’t.”

Hakyeon was the one who stayed, even though he kept telling himself it would be only a few minutes more and then he’d follow the others out. The image of Taekwoon waking up to an empty room, or to doctors questioning him and wanting to run tests to check how stable he was at this point in his disease, that image broke his heart. He wanted his best friend to have someone there when he woke, whenever that might happen, someone who would reassure him that he wasn’t alone. Hakyeon could be that person.


	5. Chapter 5

“--can’t be serious! He only got here a couple hours ago--”

“Look, we have to do what we have to do--”

“He needs time to rest, to recuperate, at least. You didn’t see what happened to him, ask the others about it and they'll tell you--”

“If you claim to care about his wellbeing so much, you should understand that what’s best for him right now is to immediately remove the--”

“I care about him more than anyone! And besides, you aren’t doing _anything_ without getting his consent to go through with it first--”

Taekwoon was growing accustomed to rude awakenings by this point. He wasn’t sure what the argument was about at first, still groggy from sleep, but when he recognized the voices of Hakyeon and one of their managers, he abruptly tried to force himself to wake fully without alerting them to his consciousness. For the second time that day, he had woken up in his hospital bed, and though he was disoriented in wondering when he’d fallen asleep and for how long, he was glad for it. He didn’t feel any pain while he was unconscious.

“Sir, both the symptoms and the tests have shown--” tests?-- “that this is definitely not the start of the disease. The hanahaki must be two months along already, at the very least, if it’s reached the point of making him faint or cough up blood.” That must have been the voice of a doctor who was speaking now.

“Two months?” Hakyeon’s voice sounded much less insistent all of a sudden. “He kept that all hidden for… for two months?”

“I’m afraid so.” The doctor spoke much more apologetically than their manager, but Taekwoon still couldn’t work out in his brain what exactly it was that they were going on about. His mind was too scattered from sleep and morphine to organize his thoughts. “At this point, he could have a relapse at any moment. We want to begin operating immediately.”

"Two months?" Hakyeon repeated, remaining in disbelief.

"Yes, and honestly, if your friends hadn't found him at the time they did, I don't think he would have made it."

For a minute it was nothing but silence as the words sunk in, and Taekwoon was tempted to turn his head and see Hakyeon's face, or the doctor’s face, to get any sort of sense of what was happening, but any visible movement from him might have ended the private conversation altogether. This was only happening in his presence because they believed him to still be asleep.

"The procedure is entirely safe, I assure you. This is something we do every day. It'll take just over an hour and he'll only have to remain under observation for a few days to ensure that it went successfully. A formality, really." Then there was the sound of some papers shuffling, some footsteps fading towards the door. "We'll wait for him to wake up to discuss how this will go. The sooner the better, but either way, Taekwoon is going to be okay. We'll get him through this without a problem." With the weight of the promise still hanging in the air, the door closed with a soft click.

\-------

He’d been passing in and out of sleep so much that he couldn’t even tell how long he’d been in the hospital by that point. It couldn’t have been any more than a few hours, but then again it felt like whole days had passed. Just about every time he woke up, Taekwoon would begin to cough again, and whoever was in the room-- usually Hakyeon-- would run and call for a nurse just in time for him to start coughing up entire red flowers into his lap. There wasn’t much the nurses could do, but they would bring him a bowl for the flowers and help clean the blood off of his face once the sickness passed. He didn’t expect much else-- everybody was waiting to find out when he would undergo the surgery that would get rid of his symptoms for good. Nothing much else could be done until then.

Turned out the bag that Hakyeon had carried in with him upon arrival contained changes of clothes that would last him a few days. Long enough, hopefully, to remain in the hospital for as long as necessary. No words said, no questions asked, Hakyeon had simply dropped any thought of responsibility and took a seat by his best friend’s side, not planning on leaving until Taekwoon was well enough to leave with him.

Wonshik was there most of the day. Hongbin, Sanghuk, and Jaehwan appeared to be alternating their visits, usually only showing up one or two at a time, though it was clearly not by choice. Hongbin told Taekwoon more than once that they’d have been there 24/7 if possible. Taekwoon was almost surprised how worried his fellow band members were about him, a doubt that he immediately felt a pang of guilt for. Of course they would have cared, of course they would have taken all the free time possible to make sure that their friend was still alive and breathing, as well as he could be. Although, none of that changed the fact that he still always preferred the times when Hakyeon was the only visitor in the room, sitting right up close to his hospital bed and bringing him a sense of peace and familiarity with his relentless talking.

Hakyeon’s talking, he could handle. But the others? They were the ones who pressed him for details about the cause of his disease and for answers that he couldn’t bring himself to give.

“Taekwoon, you have to tell us, who is it?” Sanghyuk knelt on the floor and rested his elbows on the bed, leaning close to him as though being closer gave him a better chance of coaxing the answers out of his silent lips. “Who made this happen to you?”

“Whoever it is, she doesn’t know what she’s missing out on. It’s her own loss, you’ll find someone better than that.” Wonshik tried to be helpful at least, but his words only grated on Taekwoon’s mind. _She_. Hah. If only it were that easy.  And Wonshik’s hostility toward the unknown love interest made Taekwoon’s stomach turn, especially given the fact that said love interest was currently sitting in very close proximity to the both of them.

“Who is it? Someone we know? Come on, Taekwoon, you can tell us.”

“We wouldn’t let a single word out about it.”

“What’s the purpose of hiding it at this point?”

Taekwoon pressed his lips together and turned away from the looming faces that demanded answers and made his anxiety spike with each word. Unexpectedly a hand touched his shoulder, making him flinch, but it didn’t move away.

“Everyone calm down, just leave him be.” Hakyeon’s hand stayed in its place on Taekwoon’s shoulder, his thumb gently moving back and forth absentmindedly in a comforting motion. “You’re really going to start demanding answers now? He doesn’t have the obligation to tell anyone anything.” His words surprised everyone, but they served their purpose-- the interrogation stopped.

The others clearly appeared guilty for their incessant questions, although the unquenchable curiosity was still present, practically tangible in the air. Their questions would surely return at a later time, but for now, they had the sense to shut up.

Sure, Hakyeon had curiosities of his own, but this time he knew it would be best not to voice them. He couldn’t even imagine the pain Taekwoon must be suffering, not just the physical symptoms but also the mental toll that something like this would inevitably take. Of course he wanted to know who Taekwoon loved. Of course he wanted to know who was putting him through this. But, ultimately, it did not matter. Ultimately, it made no difference, because this was nobody’s own fault and nothing could be changed. Best to let Taekwoon keep this to himself.


	6. Chapter 6

He was in a white room. Not a white room like the hospital room, but white like the kind you imagine when people talk about "going into the light." That was his first hint that he was dreaming. That, and the fact that the bright white surrounding him didn't strain his eyes. It was beautiful, almost as beautiful as the fresh flowers he could feel rising in his throat.

Taekwoon stuck two fingers into his mouth, reaching for the flower. He took it between the two digits and began to pull, coughing aggressively as the rest of the stem exited his throat. That he was dreaming did nothing to ease the pain, like the scrapes that lined the inside of his throat were deep enough to even cut through a hallucination.

Another flower followed that one, snagging once more to make him pull it out with his fingers. The petals came apart in his hands, and it was only out of his peripheral vision that Taekwoon saw Hakyeon approach him, looking entirely calm with an expectant smile on his face. "Do you like them, Taekwoonie?"

Blood splattered onto the white floor where the flowers were falling.

"Do you like them? I picked them out specially for you..."

An attempt to speak resulted in another hacking cough, a garden blooming at his feet.

"I'm sorry I couldn't love you, really, I am, but I hope this makes up for it. I picked the most beautiful flowers I could find for your gift. You’ve always deserved the best, Taekwoonie.” Something soft touched his cheek-- Hakyeon’s hand? His skin felt so soft against Taekwoon’s face, flushed red from the force his throat was exerting. And Hakyeon sounded so sincere, it was impossible to be angry with him, especially when Taekwoon knew that none of this was really his fault at all…

“H-- Ha--” The attempt at speaking his name was stifled before it could have been given a chance to surface. He needed to reassure Hakyeon that he wasn’t mad, he needed to say _yes, thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful, but Hakyeon, they’re choking me_ …

Taekwoon doubled over in pain, at this point praying that his body could hurry up and force the rest of the oncoming flowers out, in order to clear his throat enough to speak to Hakyeon. But they didn’t stop coming. Rendering him entirely incapable of speech, all he could manage was let out a choked cry of pain. Hakyeon’s hand moved to his back, rubbing slow circles like he was trying to comfort him, and Taekwoon weakly lifted his head to meet his gaze with tear-filled eyes.

Hakyeon’s lips rested in a peaceful smile.

\------------

Taekwoon erupted into a cough, but this time it must have been real. The stark white room was replaced with one entirely dark. The only cracks in the darkness were streaks of moonlight-- or maybe streetlight-- cutting through the blinds, falling on a tired face. The face was Cha Hakyeon’s, and his eyelids were fluttering slowly to wakefulness.

“Taekwoonie?” he asked sleepily. “Are you okay? Can you breathe?” Taekwoon felt something squeeze his hand, and that was when he remembered they’d fallen asleep that way. Taekwoon’s weak hand cradled in Hakyeon’s.

It took him a moment to register the question and the fact that he needed to speak his answer. He cleared his dry throat, beyond thankful that he could feel nothing that needed to be coughed up. “Y-yes, I’m okay.” He turned his trembling hand around to interlace their fingers on impulse. It felt so nice, and was probably the only time Hakyeon would ever be quite this affectionate with him, and Taekwoon would have given anything to be able to see their fingers laced together in the darkness of the hospital room. Just so he could have that memory to hold in his mind. To compensate for his lack of vision, he held Hakyeon’s hand just a bit tighter, trying to commit the way it felt in his own to memory. “What time is it? When did we fall asleep?”

Hakyeon shifted in the chair beside the bed, reaching for his phone without releasing Taekwoon’s hand. The brief brightness from the screen gave him the quickest view of Hakyeon’s sleepy expression, all drowsy eyes and lips half-parted in thought. “About midnight now. You’ve been out for a few hours. As far as I can tell, it’s only been somewhere around an hour for me.” Hakyeon smiled once at Taekwoon before the screen went out, and they were engulfed in darkness again.

“Don’t stay up on my account, I didn’t mean to wake you…"

“Why do you think I’m here in the first place? I wanted to be able to wake up if you started to cough again.”

Why the hell did the boy have to be so caring and so sweet? Taekwoon should have been grateful, but instead could only feel a bitterness settling in his chest, bitterness that had never wanted to acquire. No way could he resent Hakyeon for what was not his fault, so instead he resented himself. For feeling the way that he did, for baring his feelings to the world in the form of a never ending garden, for ever daring to hope that Hakyeon’s hand holding his own could mean anything more than the sincerity of their friendship.

“It hurts,” he admitted quietly, out of nowhere. Something stupid and pathetic that he probably wouldn’t have said to the other boys or even the nurses. “Hurts too much to talk.”

“Do you want me to get you some more water?”

No water could be a salve to this burn.

“Do you need to sleep? Tell me what you need and I’ll help you.”

“Talk to me.”

So Hakyeon talked.

Taekwoon took deep, steady breaths through his abused throat and lungs. Closing his eyes made no difference in the darkness, but he did it anyway, giving over his senses to the sound of Hakyeon’s hushed voice and the feeling of his thumb lightly stroking the back of his hand. Hakyeon went on to say how Taekwoon was going to be perfectly okay, that soon they’d be through this whole mess. He promised to keep the others under control, keep them from asking too many questions. “You have the right to keep these things to yourself, especially with how much pain you’re in right now. I’ll make sure they give you the time you need while you recover. Don’t feel obligated to tell _anyone_ who you’re in love with, okay? That’s yours to tell, not anybody else’s to force out of you. That’s not their right.”

When he ran out of things to say about the situation at hand, he moved seamlessly onto other things, unsure if Taekwoon was still awake to hear them or not. Either way, it felt nice just to be able to comfort him by speaking, spill out whatever things were on his mind without worry. Well, nearly without worry. Even as he spoke, Hakyeon’s mind drifted to the cause of Taekwoon’s sickness. The things he would not have dared ask about.

Jung Taekwoon, who hardly showed any sort of affection for anyone, whether by choice or some other factor, though it definitely wasn’t for lack of experiencing it. His affection was there if you looked for it, if you were close enough to him to deserve it, and if you knew the little ways in which he might subtly show it. But romantic affection, that was a different story altogether. Love and relationships weren’t topics that ever came up in conversation with Taekwoon. The guy seemed to show no interest in it whatsoever. And now here he was, his first brush with love from what everyone could tell, and it had landed him in the hospital while he slowly suffocated to death.

The poor boy deserved better, to say the very least.

The more Hakyeon thought about it, the more he wondered how anybody could _not_ take a liking to Taekwoon. This person he loved was either oblivious or a fool to not see what was right in front of them.

“Woonie?”

“Yes?”

“You’re still awake?”

“For the moment.”

“I’m sorry, I just had to ask… Did the doctor ever speak with you about the surgery? When you’re getting it done?”

Taekwoon tried to clear his throat before speaking, which resulted in him dissolving once more into coughs that felt like murder on his throat and lungs. Their hands tightened together, and Hakyeon prepared for the worst, but after a few seconds the coughs subsided with no ill effects beyond distorting Taekwoon’s lovely voice. “Yes, I did. Don’t worry, we’re going to figure it all out.”

“You know when it’s happening? They’re not pushing you into it too quickly, are they?” Taekwoon only shook his head in response. “But you will be going through with it?” He nodded.

“I don’t see much of another option.” Hakyeon nodded in understanding. Of course the surgery was necessary. It just scared him to think of his best friend, rushed to the hospital and immediately rushed under a knife, sliced open with his feelings for whoever effectively removed.

“No chance of the person… you know, returning your feelings?” He knew then that he’d pushed too far. He had searched for the line and was about to cross it. Though he couldn’t see him, he could picture the saddened expression currently on Taekwoon’s face. “Right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” Instead of giving an answer, Taekwoon pulled Hakyeon’s hand closer, to rest on the mattress. Maybe he’d have talked if his throat hadn’t been on fire, or maybe all he wanted was to sit in silence. Hakyeon didn’t mind that. Falling asleep next to his Leo sounded nice-- at least he’d be right there to wake up if he needed to.


	7. Chapter 7

There was a dull ache behind Hakyeon’s eyes when he began to stir from his sleep. The result of sunlight shining through the cracks in between the blinds, right onto his face. Squinting, he turned his head almost unconsciously away from the light source and nearly fell out of the chair as a result.

Right, he’d fallen asleep in that chair by Taekwoon’s side. Had talked and talked up until exhaustion took over, and he must have only gotten a couple more hours of sleep at most after that, but at least his voice had been able to help Taekwoon get some sleep and that was what mattered. He stretched out his limbs that had become stiff from sleeping in the same awkward position, raising his arms high over his head, and… and his hand wasn’t holding anything anymore.

He opened his eyes to an empty room. The hospital bed was unoccupied, and immediately he got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The way Taekwoon had been feeling yesterday, no way was he in any condition to be getting out of bed…

Hakyeon leaned over, held his head in his hands. _Alright, just breathe for a minute. You’re overreacting, surely he’s just… god, I don’t know, with the doctor or something…_

He stood up quickly. Too quickly. He stumbled a bit, disoriented even with the few hours of sleep he’d managed to attain in the past 24 hours. He reached for his phone, distressed to see that there were no messages to inform him of anything, but even more distressed to see that it was already 10:34 am.

_What the hell is going on?_

Someone should have woken him up. If not Taekwoon, _someone_. He promised himself he would stay and make sure Taekwoon was safe, so why had he not woken up when he left the room?

Just as he was moving to open the door, it swung open on it’s own. “Hakyeon-hyung! You’re awake already.” Sanghyuk stood in the doorway, looking very much like he’d just been scared shitless by Hakyeon’s unexpected presence right in front of the door he’d just opened. “Nobody wanted to disturb you." 

“Where’s Taekwoon? Is he okay?”

“Of course he’s okay. Why don’t we go get something to eat from the cafe? We can talk about it there.”

Sanghuk was already turning away, but Hakyeon’s hand shot out to take hold of his shoulder. “Please tell me what’s going on. I tried to keep myself up in case he got sick again, I thought I’d wake up if anything happened.. Please, Hyuk, where is he?”

Sanghyuk sighed under his breath, lips forming a tight line. “They _wanted_ you to sleep through it. Didn’t want you to worry. Look, I-- they told me not to talk to you about it if you woke up too soon.”

Hakyeon almost felt bad pressing the maknae for answers that he clearly felt conflicted about giving, but what could be so important about keeping this secret from him? “They? They meaning who? Look, if it’s the doctors, if it’s anyone we work for, I won’t let you get in trouble for telling me anything. Or I’ll just go straight to them and make them tell me what’s going on, they don’t have a right to keep information about his health hidden from us--”

“Hakyeon, it’s not just them. Taekwoon didn’t want you to know.”

Initiate panic mode.

“Me, specifically? He didn’t want me to know?" 

Sanghyuk sighed again, clearly giving up. “You’re sure you don’t want to head over to the cafe to talk about this?” Hakyeon only shook his head, and Sanghyuk shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of ‘I tried’ before letting himself fall into one of the chairs. Hakyeon sat across from him.

“Last night, the doctors convinced him to go through with the surgery in the morning. He only agreed to it on the condition that they could get it done early enough that you wouldn’t be awake when it happened. The doctors got him out of the room quietly a few hours ago."

“What? Why would he do that?” He tried hard to keep his alarm under control despite how confused he was.

“Why does our Leo do anything that he does? Honestly, you’ve been so concerned about him that I think he was afraid for how you’d react to it all. Probably thought it would be easier to just get through it and not have you doubt his safety for even a moment. 

Hakyeon’s eyes widened at the next realization. “Oh my god, that means he’s there now, doesn’t it?"

“I think they’re stitching him back up just now. Wonshik sent me to see if you were awake, and… and distract you if you were.” He gestured around them, an apologetic look on his face. “Which I guess I kind of failed at, didn’t I? But don’t worry, we would have found out if something had gone wrong. It’s not a difficult procedure from what they told us, they say he should be awake in an hour or so, and then you’ll be able to hit him for making you worry.”

“Hit him? Maybe. But god, I’ll be so relieved just to see him awake and functioning, I could practically kiss him.”


	8. Chapter 8

Taekwoon had heard about how some medications for things like depression or anxiety or bipolar disorder could ruin a person's life. How just the wrong mix of prozac or xanax or zoloft could have the potential to make you a something of a different person than you were before. Shut off little parts of you in your brain, or wreck your emotions altogether. 

He knew how some people eventually described it as just numbness. Not being able to feel anything anymore. 

He himself couldn't say he knew exactly what that felt like. But upon waking up after the surgery, he ventured a guess that what he was feeling at the time came pretty damn close. 

Taekwoon ran his fingers lightly down the long bandage on his chest. Underneath it would be a scar. Sensation would return to it within 12 hours, and the doctors would prescribe him medication for pain relief that he would take every day for the next month. 

The only difference between what he felt now and what someone numb from all the wrong medication would feel was that, instead of adding something to himself in attempt to cure, something had been taken away. They'd carved open his chest and scraped out the flowers, but had the flowers been the only thing they removed? He felt strangely more empty than that. Too empty to say he was once more the same way he had been before the disease, but then he experimentally allowed himself to think of Hakyeon and he felt... nothing. 

Had this been a mistake? Some sort of mix up? He didn't feel any sort of romantic love for Hakyeon and it didn't feel as though he ever had. Had they operated on him without a purpose? He had to tell someone there had been a mistake, Taekwoon had never been in love and they’d put him through this stupid operation and fucked up, taken out something else by accident. 

But then what had caused the flowers to grow? There was no other thing that could have, and he  _ knew _ he didn't imagine those. He didn't imagine the months he spent ducking into the bathroom to spit out the endless petals trapped in his throat. He didn't imagine it when they turned red and began cutting him up from the inside. 

But then that meant he had, at one time, truly loved his best friend Cha Hakyeon. Hypothetically. Because as hard as he tried, he couldn't recall a single thought of Hakyeon that had run through his head at any point in the last two months. 

Testing it, he let himself imagine an impossible future, one where he woke up in the morning by Hakyeon’s side. He imagined the way he might want a lover to look at him, and then he imagined that look on Hakyeon’s face. Their lips meeting in lazy, early morning kisses. Hands roaming sleepily over bare skin, both of them too tired to initiate anything but not caring because all that mattered was the feeling of their loved one lying next to them.

The thought was nearly humorous, it was so unthinkable. But nothing was humorous to Taekwoon in that moment. Nothing was anything, there was simply nothing. 

He did not love Cha Hakyeon.    
Even if he had, at some point, in some way, he did not now. And for the poor Taekwoon who had never once met a single person before Hakyeon who occupied enough of his heart to call it love, he now had no memory of what that kind of love felt like at all.


	9. One week later

On the day that Taekwoon was to leave the hospital, Hakyeon offered to help him remove the bandage on his chest for the final time. His hand moved to the edge of the strip, not even making contact with it before being shoved away. “I can do it myself,” Taekwoon insisted, and so he did. A very rejected Hakyeon watched with a slight pang of sadness as the scar was revealed, still dark red and beginning to pucker at the edges. Taekwoon barely looked at it, whether out of avoidance or indifference, and instead focused on his own hands balling up the bandage.

“Would you like me to get rid of that for you?”

“I can function on my own now, in case you’re not aware,” he snapped in response, eliciting a shocked expression from Hakyeon. Not offended. Just surprised. Like he’d been slapped and didn’t know how to react. “Goddamn it, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out like that.” Hastily, he tossed the bandage into the trash can in the corner of the room. “I’m just tired.”

“Of course you are, after all you’ve been through.” Hakyeon was sure his voice sounded a bit strained, though the words were sincere. The same couldn’t be said for Taekwoon, not that Hakyeon would know, because it was impossible to tell.

That was the weirdest thing that had happened with his best friend in quite awhile. Even with how reserved Taekwoon always was, Hakyeon knew him well enough to know when he was being sincere. So why was the tone of his voice so unclear now? Why did it feel like a wall had been built up between them?

Hakyeon’s eyes fell for a moment on the bag he’d brought with him to the hospital. The changes of clothes that he thought he would need for a much longer time than he had. The stay had been just over a week since the surgery had ended up taking place that very first night.

At least they had a good chance of being prepared for the showcase. That was all their managers had seemed to care about. 

“Taekwoon..”

“Yes?”

Whatever words he might have said were swallowed by silence. What was the point in voicing his thoughts? _It’s stupid_ , he told himself, _of course Taekwoon isn’t going to be feeling his best, just leave him be, he’ll come around…_

Funny how he hadn’t noticed the way his best friend used to talk to him and look at him until things had changed.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he voiced in place of the thoughts. “I’ll be right back, you’ll be okay on your own for a bit?”

“Of course.”

As soon as the door shut behind him, Hakyeon’s face crumpled. Tears were welling up in his eyes, stinging from the effort of holding them back. It was a relief to let them out, even if he wasn’t entirely sure about the reason _why_ he was crying, just that it felt like something he’d been needing to do for awhile, the need building up until it broke.

Why had he been unable to tell if Taekwoon was being sincere or not?

Recently, he’d been wondering how anybody could _not_ fall in love with Jung Taekwoon. How anyone’s life could cross paths with his and not be forever shifted. How a person could meet his dark almond eyes or catch a glimpse of that shy little smile and not stumble head over heels.

Whoever he had been in love with before the operation, that poor, oblivious soul should have had a chance to realize what a beautiful thing they were missing from their life.

The crying didn’t need to last long once it had been allowed out, but after the crying came coughing. Hard, aggressive coughing, and Hakyeon cupped a hand over his mouth, eyes widening in alarm because he could feel something rising in his throat.

When he dared to pull his hand away, he was holding a single white petal.


End file.
